


Congeniality

by Mistressaq



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rare Pairings, porn w/o plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12744036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistressaq/pseuds/Mistressaq
Summary: Farrah is emotional after filming the s9 reunion. new friend Adore finds a way to get his mind off it.





	Congeniality

Adore was jet lagged, and on her way back from LAX when they noticed their phone blowing up with texts and DMs from one Vegas showgirl. 

The messages were in a flurry of everything from 300 word paragraphs to single letter spamming, and they would have assumed the queen was drunk if not for the blatant fury, hurt and disbelief. Adore completely understood once they’d scrolled up far enough. 

The finale and reunion was filmed and Valentina had been given the title of Miss Congeniality. This set Adore’s stomach boiling just a little, given that they were the RuGirl who had formed a connection with Farrah Moan after the announcements had gone out. They’d DM’d each other for days on end, everything from reacting to episodes to just sending memes of the other (Adore’s favorite was a meme of the faces Farrah made when she cried in four different outfits set to the opening monologue from Avatar: the last Airbender series). Adore remembered the concerned questions Farrah sent her about how the rest of the drag race girls were supposed to react to you after filming is over. 

“Idk, some are super friendly. Bianca and i openly love each other lol” Adore had said. 

“But like say you were like besties with someone on the show and after filming they just never respond to you and when they do it’s single word responses. yes/no stuff?” Farrah had asked. 

Adore’s response was very much like one they’d gotten from bianca years ago. “Then they’re a two faced bitch who only cares about how good you make them look. And you pay that bitch no mind.” They’d punctuated the message with a pic of Kermit sipping tea. 

Adore knew Farrah felt scorned by someone on her season, but they hadn’t tried to guess who. They knew Farrah wouldn’t tell. Until the text spam, where they didn’t have to try and figure out that Valentina was clearly the seventh-grade friend ghoster. 

“I just need someone to vent to and cry to and maybe get drunk with and just -- GAH!” read the most recent text. 

Adore rubbed the airplane sleep from their eyes and stretched. They weren’t going back to their apartment to nap. “Take an uber to my place. I’ll be there in 20 -- on my way home.” 

Farrah sent a rare “ok”. … 

The queen was waiting by the front entrance of Adore’s apartment complex when they arrived. She was a sight. Half in drag, lipstick smeared, mascara smudged, like she’d scrubbed angrily at runaway tears. “Baby,” Adore greeted Farrah sweetly. 

Farrah dove into their arms. She let out a sound that was half zombie groan and half frustrated screech. 

They kept their arm around Farrah’s shoulders, rubbing at the tension the younger queen held there. “Baby, I’m here, just help me get my bags inside, okay?” 

Eager to help, Farrah went for the second-heaviest, as Adore had their monster bag and backpack secured already. They pulled out their keycard and the two made their way into the high-end apartment complex. The suitcases deposited on the floor of the entryway, Adore led Farrah over to the living room couch and invited her to continue on her filibuster of tea, shade and downright bitterness. She’d started repeating herself, but Adore completely understood. It wasn’t fair, they agreed, that someone so two-faced could win a title like congeniality. In the past, congeniality had been awarded to a popular queen, but Adore knew Ben deserved his win, Katya hers and Cucu hers. 

But then, fair wasn’t the way of life. Adore knew better than to tell that to the raving Farrah, highlighter sweating off of her angry and hurt face. It was obvious the girl needed a drink, but Adore toured all the time -- they were leaving on another flight in two days -- and all they had in their apartment was a dusty, already-opened bottle of wine in the back of a cabinet they couldn’t even reach. 

Farrah took a break from her babbling to rock back and forth, cuddle a throw pillow and bury her face in the faux fur. Adore sat down next to her and massaged the edges of her face, the lace on her powder pink Elvira wig. “You want me to take this off?” they asked, rubbing Farrah’s temple with their thumb. The girl nodded, her face still in the pillow. 

Adore slowly went about pulling off the wig, careful of pins and glue. Whenever something snagged on Farrah’s skin or hair, Adore massaged the place. When the whole wig was off, Adore set it on the glass coffee table and continued rubbing and massaging Farrah’s scalp. She was calming down, and moaned lightly at the tingling sensation that crept across her head. “Hmm, I think I’m done talking about it for the night,” she croaked. 

Farrah opened her eyes and flicked a glance back at Adore. “Anyway, how’s tour?” “Oh, belting my lungs out, getting tips, taking trade.” Adore inhaled sharply as a certain memory stuck out in recent memory. “Handsy people thinking drag means consent.” 

Farrah grunted in agreement. “Those sickos fucking suck.” 

Adore’s eyes lit up at the mutual understanding. “I know! Like if I want to fuck you, I’ll invite you to my place and give you a massage.” 

They grinned when Farrah looked behind her, recognizing just what Adore had said. Farrah raised her eyebrows; Adore shrugged. 

Farrah spun around on the couch so the two faced each other. Her skirt rode up so far on her thighs it was basically a belt. Adore had their natural hair down, signature cool kid sunglasses tucked into the front of their own merch shirt. Adore raised a slow hand to Farrah’s cheek, and traced the outline of her face, asking for permission and daring her to reject the advance at the same time. Farrah leaned into the touch. Further, she leaned forward so their lips met. 

Adore gripped Farrah’s waist with both hands, holding her there. Once they’d figured she wouldn’t be leaving, they wrapped a hand around one side of her neck, pushing at her pulse point and rubbing over the sensitive nerves there. All the time they deepened the kiss, tasting candy, cigarettes and a tiny bit of vodka on Farrah’s tongue. 

They pushed the kiss deeper and was about to shift positions so they were kneeling over Farrah on the couch when the blonde winced and drew away. “Ow.” 

Adore lurched back. “What? Did I hurt you?” 

Farrah shifted uncomfortably on her hips. Through gritted teeth, she explained, “Tuck.” 

Understanding and relief washed over Adore. “Oh,” they chuckled and walked their hand up farrah’s exposed thigh. “Well you just let me take care of that, baby.” 

Farrah leaned back and let Adore gently work off the tucking panties, teasing her soft inner thighs. Once free, Adore took Farrah’s ever-hardening erection in their hand and started stroking, with only the edges of their fingers. God, how they already loved teasing Farrah. His blonde hair flopped to one side, slightly curled from the humidity under the wig he’d been wearing. His eyes rolled up and his back arched into Adore’s tantalizing hand. 

The noises he made left no imagination as to why his last name was Moan. 

Adore leaned down to suck at Farrah’s neck. What makeup had been there had been sweated and rubbed off already, leaving Adore with only the vague taste of powder on their tongue. Hearing those choked moans and feeling the other growing in his hand had Adore’s ripped jeans feeling tighter by the second. They pulled their hand back from Farrah’s dick and the twenty-two-year old sighed at the loss. “Hey, hey, hey,” Adore quieted his whines with his mouth. 

Farrah cupped Adore’s cheeks and wrapped his legs around Adore’s sides as they yanked at their zipper. It was caught on something -- he couldn’t loosen his jeans and he felt like he was suffocating. Farrah gasped and pulled back from the kiss to pant in Adore’s ear, uttering single syllables until he had a sentence out. “I -- prepared -- do you -- have condoms?” 

At the first two words, Adore was furiously tugging at the plastic zipper. With a final, pent-up pull, the tag broke off entirely, letting Adore frustratedly yank his pants and underwear down to his knees in one fell swoop. 

The only people Adore ever entertained at their apartment were trade and fellow drag queens. The queens knew fully well how much Adore liked sex, and were unsurprised when they found one of the many condoms they had hidden around the apartment. Farrah, however, hadn’t been over before, and gasped adorably when Adore freed a durex from its place, taped to the underside of the coffee table. The way his eyes widened with surprise, the way he clapped childishly pleased at the neat trick -- Adore wanted to be inside of him _now._

What they didn’t have stashed everywhere, unfortunately, was lube. But Farrah amazed them yet again by reaching over to the discarded powder pink Elvira wig, shuffling around underneath, and, like a true Vegas magician, pulled out a travel-sized container of lube. As Adore took it from him wide-eyed he said, “You’re fucking amazing.” 

Farrah smiled at the validation. Adore thought that smile could create world peace, end world hunger, save the polar bears and cure their anxiety all in one. They placed the corner of the condom wrapper between their teeth and opened the lube. “You help me with this,” they said, handing Farrah the wrapper. “And I’ll help you with this.” They slicked their fingers and stroked behind Farrah’s balls. 

Eager to please, Farrah went to town, showing off a trick Adore had only had done on them once before by a fellow queen showing off. The blonde got the condom around the precum-slick head of Adore’s cock, then slid down the rest, all the way to the base, with only his mouth. 

The sudden warmth made Adore grunt in happy surprise. They couldn’t reach Farrah’s entrance now but they didn’t care. Farrah was swallowing and teasing them with the condom on -- not something they experienced often, but with the amount of sex they both were having -- probably a better idea come to think of it. They used their non-lubed hand to stroke through Farrah’s lesbian-ass haircut (no seriously--look him up out of drag, he and hannah hart have the same damn haircut). Adore let his head fall back, losing themself in Farrah’s expert mouth. The entire world blotted away, all the drama and loneliness. They actually forgot they had started this session to make Farrah feel better until the warmth was gone and Farrah was squirming under them, cock hard and face screwed up with need. “Please,” he begged. “Please, daddy.” 

“What do you want me to do you you?” Adore fell back into their role comfortably, the words coming out rehearsed. 

Farrah scootched his ass toward Adore’s crotch. “Fuck me.” 

Adore propped his knee between Farrah’s legs, which he rubbed up against, begging for friction. “Beg.” 

“Fuck me, daddy.” Farrah’s speech devolved into hopeless and desperate cries of “ _Fuckmefuckmefuckmeee!_ ” 

Adore was again amazed, this time at how easily their fingers slid inside. Farrah was a pro and so in need it physically hurt to deny him anymore. They made their way inside, slowly at first, but Farrah took charge and had himself completely full of everything Adore had to offer. 

His moans and cries encouraged Adore like nothing they had ever heard. Sexy-ass baby, that’s what Farrah was. Adore punctuated every thrust with a bit of validation for the needy baby. “You’re so fucking good. So fucking good. Moan for me, Farrah. Make some noise.” 

Farrah obliged. Turned out he was a screamer when allowed. With Adore’s permission, Farrah screeched a theatrical soprano over and over, taking choking, gasping breaths in between outbursts. 

Farrah shook his head. “It’s too much, too much!” 

Adore didn’t slow the pace. “Tell me to stop.” 

“Never!” Farrah gasped, eyes closed, shaking his head even harder. “Never stop.” 

Not long after that, he squealed, “Can’t -- much longer -- gonna come!” 

Adore sped the pace to the point where they felt like a machine, stabbing the poor twink over and over with pleasure. Just when they knew time was almost up for them, Farrah screamed and drenched them with pearlescent cum. He rode out his orgasm feeling Adore finish inside of him. 

After discarding the condom, Adore collapsed on top of Farrah, their mouth in the crook of his neck, feeling Farrah’s breath against their forehead. Both struggled to catch a breath after such an intense session. Adore traced lines across Farrah’s skin. Around his hipbone, up his side, between each visible rib, across his ghostly abs. Farrah curled Adore’s long brown hair around his fingers and stared at the ceiling. Adore chuckled into Farrah’s neck. 

“What?” asked Farrah. 

Adore’s giant cow eyes stared up at him. “Did that get your mind off Miss Congeniality?” 

Farrah laughed so loud Adore was wondering what the neighbors could possibly think was happening. It didn’t matter. That laugh alone gave fifteen angels their wings and put another five years on Adore’s lifespan. 

“You know what?” said Farrah. “Valentina might have gotten 5k for fooling the world into thinking she’s nice, but you know what she doesn’t have?” 

“Hm?” Adore looked up at him expectantly. 

Farrah smirked. “She hasn’t been fucked by an all star.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first ever time writing gay sex and my first time writing a nonbinary character. originally posted to AQ June 17 2017. in the process of porting this story over to here i fixed an issue of Disappearing Condom.


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